Page 90 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
This time, he carries a tray arranged with steaming porridge topped with honey and berries, fresh bread slathered with butter, and what smells like spiced cider. My stomach growls traitorously.
“You didn’t touch your dinner,” he observes, glancing at the untouched food. “A pity. It was prepared specificallyfor you.”
“I prefer not to eat anything from kidnappers,” I snap, though my mouth waters at the aroma. “It’s a personal rule.”
He pushes the tray through the slot. “Starving yourself won’t change your circumstances.”
Days pass in the same pattern. Tahranis brings food three times daily, making the same offer. “Come see what I have to show you.”
Sometimes Fern—face smudged with dirt—peers from behind his coat, studying me with suspicious eyes. She never speaks, just watches, like I’m some exotic creature in a menagerie.
I reject them both, throwing insults instead of accepting nourishment. But my strength wanes. My stomach aches constantly. Dizziness comes in waves.
On what might be the fifth day—or tenth, who knows—Tahranis arrives with a plate of roasted meat that makes my knees weak with hunger.
“Still refusing to see what awaits you?” he asks, eyes gleaming. “Such stubborn pride.”
I stare at the food, then at him. My options are clear: continue this futile resistance until I’m too weak to stand, or play along and watch for an opening.
“Fine,” I say, voice raspy from disuse. “Show me whatever ridiculous thing you’re so desperate for me to see.”
A smile blooms across his face, sweet as wine laced with something wicked. “I knew you’d come around eventually, Omneira.”
I take the plate, my fingers brushing his. “Don’t call me that. And don’t mistake cooperation for surrender.”
His laugh echoes in the confined space. “I would expect nothing less from you.” He winks. “I’ll come back for you once you’ve eaten.”
I devour the food like a starving animal, dignity be damned. The meat is tender, perfectly seasoned, and I tear into it with my fingers, licking them clean between bites. My body practically sings with relief as I fill the hollow ache in my stomach. When I drain the last drop of water from the cup, I feel almost like myself again.
An hour later, Tahranis returns, face etched with satisfaction when he sees the empty plate.
“Ready for your... tour?” He leans against the wall, infuriatingly casual.
“Just open the cell,” I growl.
He clicks his tongue. “A word of warning first. Don’t waste energy trying to escape. These mountains would swallow you whole. You’d never find your way out in a thousand years.”
“Worried I’ll run?” I challenge.
“Worried you’ll get lost.” His certainty makes my stomach clench. “The paths change. The tunnels shift. Only those who belong here can navigate them.”
A chill runs through me.
Tahranis unlocks the cell with a key he takes from his pocket. He steps aside with a flourish, like a host welcoming an honored guest rather than a jailer releasing his captive. I step out slowly, every muscle tense and consider my options. Fight, flee, or follow. With my powers mysteriously absent and no knowledge of where I am, my chances don’t look promising.
“After you,” Tahranis gestures down the torch-lit corridor, smirking as if he can read my calculations.
I glare at him, imagining how satisfying it would feel to gouge his eyes right out of his arrogant face. The fantasy must show on my expression because his smirk deepens.
“Such fire,” he murmurs. “I do enjoy that about you.”
“Let your guard down and you’ll see exactly how much fire I have left,” I spit, even as I move past him into the corridor.
He chuckles deep in his throat. “I’m counting on it, Omneira. I’m counting on it.”
At the name Omneira, something inside me snaps. White-hot rage floods through me, washing away all caution and calculation.
“I told you not to call me that!” I whirl around, fingers curled into claws, aiming straight forhis eyes.
